Wrong
by saltoftheearth
Summary: Sometimes in life there are questions that will never be answered. Just a one shot.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Scrubs or the characters **

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The doctor paused outside the patient's door. It wasn't his patient. He didn't need to be there. That hadn't stopped him from going to this room every day to check up on this patient, though. This wasn't even his hospital. This wasn't even the right _kind _of hospital. None of that mattered - not to him. The staff here long ago gave up trying to stick to some kind of regular procedure and protocol around who was authorized to do what with regards to this patient and the visitors who frequented this room. This patient's visitors proved themselves to be perfectly capable of providing the necessary care during their stays, which made it easier to bend the rules for them. They were all professionals after all. Besides, the over worked and burned out staff here were all too aware of how rare it was to see such an unrelenting, loyal, and caring group of individuals watching over a patient for any length of time. It was a heart breaking, yet nearly inevitable pattern. A patient gets admitted, family and friends start out diligently visiting and advocating, and over time the roster shortens and the visits become less and less frequent. Most of the patients here have no one to advocate for them anymore, no one who was willing to stick things out "just in case", making the hope of true recovery diminish into a faint shadow.

The man frowned as he looked through the window into the room. He unclenched his hands and slowly removed them from the pockets of his white lab coat. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and closed his eyes - just for a second. Just to give himself a brief moment of dark and solace before entering the room. It was his pattern. It's what he did every time he came here. He told himself it was just his way of collecting himself so he wouldn't lose control when he went in there. It was partially true. But if he was really honest with himself he would know that it was more than that. It was a tiny moment of grief. It was a silent prayer of "maybe this time. Maybe this time will be different. Maybe this is the day." It was his way of shutting out the world around him just long enough to feel those conflicting emotions of fear, defeat, and hope before he put on that mask of hardened cement.

Letting a breath out slowly, he pulled the door open and took long, confident, and determined strides into the room. The door softly clicked shut behind him.

"Morning, sunshine. Did you get your beauty sleep last night?"

Nothing. But that wasn't abnormal.

Jaw clenched, fighting the urge to swoop over to the occupied bed and fly into a rage, he instead calmly moved to the windows and pulled the curtains back.

"Now, I know you're embarrassed about being seen without your hair done up and your lip stick on..."

His movements were smooth, practiced, memorized as he checked various things around the room: Thermostat, the pitcher of water, the list of who was on duty for the day, the water level in the vase of flowers on the windowsill...

"But seriously, you reeahhhly need some sunlight on that pasty skin of yours. I'm not kidding. I'm going blind with the glare."

Finally, there was nothing left to check but the patient, still sitting quietly in the bed - eyes silently following the doctor as he moved around the room. The patient stiffened slightly, yet barely flinched as the doctor gently took hold of each wrist and inspected both arms, one at a time, then both legs, and the every other place where there was exposed skin. Those eyes were carefully trained on the doctor, watching every move, waiting.

When he was done, he slid a chair over to the bed, not even wincing as the legs screeched across the cheap tile floor. He flopped down unceremoniously onto the chair, legs sprawled out in front of him, and scrubbed his face. He was stalling of course, he always did. He knew he'd have to actually _look _into those eyes as soon as his hand left his face. He felt as though his heart climbed into his throat with the anticipation of what he would see there. It was the same every day, yet he still hadn't fully gotten used to it. He wasn't sure he ever would.

With another sigh he let the hand that was rubbing his face fall into his lap and he slowly raised his eyes to the face before him. His heart broke all over again.

"Are you going to talk today, Newbie or do I need to do all work?"

Nothing. Blank, empty stare.

"Right. Well, that's fine. It's not like I'm not used to picking up the slack where you're concerned anyway, Princess. I mean, you were always so busy slacking off, daydreaming, or flirting with Gandhi. _Someone _had to make sure your patients were taken care of."

Nothing.

"You missed a rough one yesterday. Apparently some hot shot on the news decided it was a good idea to announce that there has been a possible instance of the bird flu in a man at County and now every man, woman, and child with the sniffles felt the need to get checked out. Of course it _wasn't _the bird flu. It was just some idiot rumor started by a paranoid dingbat rookie looking to discover something big and noteworthy to become famous for. Kelso almost suspended me for "unprofessional and unruly behavior toward a patient" five separate times. But then I had to remind him how royally screwed he'd be without me there since you're...here."

He blinked.

"Newbie...we...I...we all miss you. I mean, who else am I going to rant to everyday and call girls' names? Elliot isn't any fun to harass these days, and calling her girls' names in just confusing. Carla won't take any of my crap, and Gandhi just walks away. So really...don't you think it's about time you snap out of it and come back to work?"

Nothing. Of course. Why would there be?

Sigh.

"Aw, you're killing me here, you really are."

Another blink and a flicker of something in those eyes. Eyebrows raise slightly, then fall.

"You can't even say anything to me today? It's been a bad week for you, hasn't it? You were like this yesterday, too. I don't even know if you'd remember that. What goes on in that brain of yours, anyway? Well, truthfully that's always been a bit of a mystery. But you at least gave me clues. Weird, disconnected, girly clues."

The corner of his mouth twitches.

"I don't know what to do anymore, Newbie. I've tried everything. I don't expect you to meet me half way, but would it kill you to take one step, huh? Just one. That's all I'm asking. And don't think for one second you've reduced me to begging, Lucinda, because that's **never **going to happen, got it?"

He takes a calming breath. He was starting to lose his cool. He could feel his heart rate picking up and his face flush. It never helped to get angry in here. He knew that.

"All right, fine. Have it your way. I have to get to work, but I'll be back tomorrow. I'm working a double so it won't be until later. Carla and Gandhi will be in this afternoon...so...maybe you could talk to them."

He meant it as a question, but it came out like a statement instead. Ah well. It probably didn't matter.

The doctor stood up and stretched, regarding his former protégé a moment before tentatively reaching out and rustling his hair. His eyes met the kid's - wide and questioning...not _entirely _empty. With a small shake of the head, he turned to go.

"Sorry."

It was said softly, nearly whispered, but he heard it. It wasn't the first time. If there was anything that the kid still displayed it was guilt and a confused sorrow. He had heard this word tumble out of his mouth probably more than any other since he'd landed here. He hung his head, his hand wrapped around the doorknob.

"I know. You always are."

He looked up and caught those eyes again, staring at him with shame and a little fear. He looked so lost, so sad...he could cry every time he looked in those eyes…or scream. Instead he felt an old determination well up inside him.

"I haven't given up Newbie. You know that I'm an insufferable, stubborn ass. If there is one thing in this world you can count on, it's that I am going to be here, every day until you're better - until you're you again. I'm not a patient man. You were always one to want to please everyone, most of all me. So, unless you want to piss me off to the point of no return, you better speed up this damn healing process."

And now he was mad. This was the typical way these visits ended. Always in anger. His hand tensed around the doorknob, ready to turn it and walk out.

"You're wrong, Perry."

The man froze. The kid's voice had changed. It wasn't soft and unsure. It was _his_ voice. The one he still heard in his sleep. He was almost afraid to move, for fear that any movement would cause the room to shift back the way it had been, the way it has always been.

"You need to let me go. I'm not going to go back to the way I was...before."

In an instant the fear was gone. The man whipped his head around so fast he was surprised his neck didn't snap. He felt like he was on fire. This time when their eyes met, he didn't see a lost little boy who was confused and scared. Those eyes were clear. They were clear and bright, they were blazing with life he hadn't seen in a long time. He stared back at the kid for a few seconds, taking everything in. They weren't just clear and alive, they were dark and haunted at the same time. And in them there was a challenge. And the doctor never backs down from a challenge.

In a flash, he was back by the bed. His large, steady hands grabbed ahold of narrow, bony shoulders.

"Before what? JD! Tell me. Before what?"

He was searching those eyes again. For a split second that look was still there, and then the kid blinked. When those paper-thin eyelids slid back up, the eyes were already beginning to cloud over.

"No, no no no. JD! Tell me. Talk to me! You're not going back to the way you were before _what_?!"

The kid's mouth opened slightly, then closed. He blinked again, and the eyes changed even more. The doctor gave his shoulders a firm shake.

"Oh hell no...JD, damn it! You remember, don't you? You know."

Nothing. The lost look was back. Lost and confused and...blank.

"JD, God Damn it - you have to tell me what happened. I can't help you if you don't talk to me. What the hell happened to you?!"

Nothing.

He let his arms drop. His head drooped to his chest.

"Damn it." He whispered. He looked back up at the kid. He could never get used to how small he looks here. Are the beds bigger here?

"Okay kid." He nodded and got back up, heading back to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow. Make sure you get that beauty rest. Lord knows you need it."

He didn't look back. The door clicked behind him, and he leaned back against it closing his eyes. His heart was still hammering in his chest. He had seen something in the kid today that threatened to undo him completely. For the first time, he had glimpsed clarity. And it was terrifying. He had often doubted the genuineness of the kid's condition. But everyone had always convinced him that he was just being some strange combination of cynical and hopeful. Today he was sure he got his proof. And now that he had it...

For the first time in his life, Dr. Cox wasn't so sure he wanted to be right.

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**Author's Note: Yeah, I have no idea where the crap this came from. I was driving to my second job and all of a sudden this popped into my head out of nowhere! It was short and clear and bizarre. But then, once I sat down to write it (er type it) I lost the most important part! I forgot what I was going to have JD say or do to make Dr. Cox think he was lucid and remembered what it was that made him like this. So, I had to come up with something that I have an awful feeling isn't nearly as nifty as my original thought was. And then for some reason, I didn't want to use Dr. Cox's name until the end, but that may have just made it confusing with all the "he"s and "him"s...bah. I don't know. I think as usual the end result doesn't do justice to the formless idea. Poopies.**


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